


Permanence

by kindkit



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 14:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12583944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindkit/pseuds/kindkit
Summary: A photograph stops time.





	Permanence

First come the cameras: four of them, plus lenses and assorted trappings. Then comes the photo editing software suite for the digital cameras and the workers to install a darkroom for the film cameras. 

Will begins to hear soft clicks everywhere he goes. He doesn't exactly pretend not to notice, just like Hannibal doesn't exactly pretend he's not taking pictures. He simply doesn't say anything. Eventually Hannibal asks him to pose.

Will expects it to turn pornographic, but it never does, even when Will is stretched out naked in their bed. Even when it's both of them in bed, embracing, the camera on a timer. 

When Hannibal has taken about 5000 pictures, by Will's estimate, and hasn't shown Will a single one, Will asks, “Are they to remember me by after I'm dead?”

Hannibal smiles and strokes Will's throat, over the arteries and the windpipe. “It's true that I have been thinking about mortality. You may be at the peak of your beauty now, and I have only two ways to keep you there.”

“So I guess this is the other way?” Will draws Hannibal's hand down to his belly. His shirt is thin; he knows Hannibal can feel the scar through it.

“I am bridging incompatible desires. I want to keep you unchanged, and I want to see how you become new over time.”

“Wrinklier?”

“More interesting.” Hannibal's arms go around him. “You are a rarity in this overcrowded world--someone who would not necessarily be improved as a work of art.”

“I want to see the photos.”

“Why? They're only . . . fragments.”

“I want to know how you see me. I've never been inside your head quite like that.”

“You're always inside my head,” says Hannibal. 

“Show me anyway.”

“Let me select the best ones.”

“No, I don't want the edited version.”

“All right.” Hannibal kisses his forehead, like a god bestowing blessings, a worshipper offering devotion. “It will take a long time to see them all.”

“That's all right. I've got time.”

“Years,” Hannibal says. “There is no hurry.”


End file.
